A Smudge

I've mentioned that my inspiration for blogging about my life is for my children to get to know dear old dad and why he is the way he is. This blog is not required reading for them, it's just here for them for when they grow out of that self-absorbed, narcissistic phase my offspring, apparently, seem to go through. 

I had a taste of life in Mexico as a child, my children know Mexico only from infrequent visits to their maternal gradparents home in Durango. My children, as i did from age seven, know life as Mexican-Americans. 
I am no historian, i'm no sociologist, this is my skewd point of view looking from inside the glass bowl, not really an objective observer.
If i'm critical of Mexico and Mexicans, myself included, it is only to be taken as personal observation, and in no way an indication of a sense  of superiority from living in the U.S. Being a naturalized citizen of this country, i may feel a reluctance to criticize it from some deep seeded feeling of gratitude towards an adoptive country. In any case, i have nothing new to add to the criticizims of the U.S. already out there from white people actually born here, who can't so easily be told they can go back to where they came from, for only the natives of this continent cannot be told to go back to wherever they came from.
Being half native is a source of pride for me, like the fact that Mexicans were living in Texas for centuries before the white man showed up, but in the end it's politics that determines our place in the world. These man made rules are what we follow, not the natural order we started to step out of when we began taking our first steps on two legs.

I suppose one can argue that being Mexican is a state of mind, not the state in which Mexico leaves it's citizens; nature versus nurture. That may simply be what this look at the smudge i'm leaving in the space-time continueum is all about: so my kids can look at it and determine if they want to make the same sort of smudge or a more stylish, colorful one.